A Cane and a Gem
by EG Winston
Summary: Formerly, Spot's Cane. The story of how Spot got his cane and a girl became free. REVISED and REFORMATTED


**NOTE: This version is revised and formatted so it's easier to read**

**Hello all! Here is a little one-shot about how Spot got his cane. I thought of it on the way home from the dentist… Also, I had trouble writing with slang so there isn't too much of it, use your imagination! Anywho, here it is, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies, just anything you don't recognize (ie Gem, Cash, and Train).**

Spot's P.O.V.

It was a nice day, I had sold all my papes and was sauntering down the streets.

Goils would turn their heads and stare as the King of Brooklyn passed by. Some of the prettier one's were fortunate enough for me to wink at 'em.

Boys that ain't me newsies would stare at me with jealousy and little kids would look at me admiringly.

It was great to own this town.

I turned down the alley to head back to the Lodging House when I was bowled over by some goil.

She stared into my eyes and mouthed 'help' before some guy, a pimp by the looks of 'im, ran afta 'er.

"Thanks boy, I wolda neva' catched this trash, get up b*tch!" he screamed at her, hitting her with his gold tipped cane.

She whimpered and crawled closer towards me. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's some scab hittin' a poor goil that don't desoive started to beat her again when I decided to 'elp 'er and teach the pimp a lesson.

"Leave her and get you' sorry self outta my territory" I trained my eyes on him. People had told me that I could break a man's soul just by staring at 'em.

Obviously the scum had no idea who I was,

"Get outta this boy, she ain't youse, she's mine and I intend to keep it that way" he growled.

I whipped my hand into my pocket and withdrew my famed slingshot and a real good shooter.

"You ain't know who youse just said that to ya lousy scab"

It dawned on him, "Spot, Spot Conlon! I-I didn't know, it's just, she's mine, I-I need 'er, she attracts lots of customers, and we'll be leavin' now"

He hit her hard again with his cane, growling obscenities at her. She trembled and looked up at me, her brown eyes overflowing with tears, I took pity, not cause I was interested in her, because like I said before, I hate scabs who hit goils.

"I said, leave 'er. And your cane too, it will be a nice prize. You better not come afta' 'er, or you'll end up swimmin' with the fishies" I said witheringly, the pimp cringed, looked at the goil one more time, and dropped his cane.

He turned around and ran out of the alley while he still had some pride left. I smiled and picked up his cane. The goil was still lying there. I looked at 'er and started to walk away, confident she would follow me.

Gem's (the girl's) P.O.V.

I ran to catch up with him, I didn't want Cash to come back and beat me again.

"Thanks" I murmured when I had caught up "You saved my life, he woulda killed me"

The boy, Spot Conlon I guess, stared straight ahead, "I'll let youse stay at the Lodge House t'night, I know a job fo' youse tomorrow" I stopped, mouth agape.

This boy may have saved my life but it looked like he was planning my future now! Noticing I had stopped he looked back, "That pimp ain't the only one you should be worried about. If you don't come with me I can guarantee you won't see the mornin'" Realizing he was right, I followed him.

After a coupla minutes, we reached an old, decrepit building in bad need of a wash. A chipped sign marked it as the Brooklyn Newsboys Lodge.

Lot's of boys were hanging around and one had the nerve to ask, "Hey Spot! Who's the broad?" His friends laughed, I blushed but I was used to worse treatment at Cash's brothel. Spot glared at them and kept walking. We walked up the stairs and he led me to an old dingy closet.

"You'll sleep here. I don't trust me boys to keep their hands offa youse." I nodded and he sat down on the bed and motioned me to sit next to him.

"Who are you?" he asked simply. I paused, no one had ever asked me that before, they just took what they came for and left. I didn't see any harm in telling the truth so I was honest.

"My name…is Gem. My ma and pa died in a factory accident, the usual tragic street rat back story, and that man chasing me was Cash. He forced me to go to the brothel when I was 13 and wouldn't let me leave. I've been there for three years until I had the nerve to leave. You saved me" I paused, my life was short and sad and that was all of my story.

He nodded and looked at me. His piercing blue eyes stared straight into my soul, he took Cash's cane out of his belt loop and looked at it, I cringed. I've been hit by it countless times, and almost died by it once.

Seeing my discomfort, he stated, "A cane don't make a man, Gem. A man makes a cane. I won't hit goils with it. I promise" I looked at the cane, reliving my past, and then at Spot. I believed him.

Spot's P.O.V.

When she finally fell asleep, I left the room. The poor goil had been through a lot but nothing I ain't hoid of.

Train, my second in command, was playin' poker and I pulled him aside, "Take the goil to Medda's when she wakes up tomorrow mornin'. Get her a job there and don't take no for an answer.

Train nodded and I sauntered off to find some entertainment elsewhere.

**Three Months Later**

Gem's P.O.V.

"Gem, dear, you're almost on! You're going to be fine" Medda whispered, trying to ease my fears,

"I will never forget how nervous I was when… quick you're on! Go!" She pushed me onto the stage and I danced.

Pirouettes, shuffles, twirls, caught in the wonderful moment of being free and being safe. Medda was good to me, I had enough to eat I wasn't ever beaten. When it was over, I walked to the front of the stage and bowed, grinning ear to ear. As I was gazing into the back, I saw a pair of piercing blue eyes, smiling at me, and a gold tipped cane that would never hit another girl again.


End file.
